


The Light in the Shadows

by bionically



Series: Love Fest 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: #TeamAphrodite, F/M, Fairest of The Rare's Love Fest 2020, Hogwarts Era, Millicent thinks so, Ron Weasley is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bionically/pseuds/bionically
Summary: Sometimes it’s the quiet, unnoticed ones who grab your heart and don’t let go.#Love Fest 2020 #TeamAphrodite
Relationships: Millicent Bulstrode/Ron Weasley
Series: Love Fest 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643674
Comments: 16
Kudos: 29
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	The Light in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Disenchantedglow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disenchantedglow/gifts).



> This one is dedicated to my untiring beta, disenchantedglow, who is simply an awesome human being and is always there to cheer me on. Needless to say, the quality of this suffered because I wanted to surprise her.

They’re always paired together in activities that require opposite genders and equivalent heights. She’s the only girl in her year that tops six feet, and Ron is well over six feet even if he hunches, as though he's used to making himself a smaller target for his brothers.

Millicent, or Millie to her friends, knows what that's like. She has a slew of older sisters, all slim and petite and giggling and pretty. She’s felt like a giant toad all her life. It doesn’t matter that she likes unicorns as much as the next giggly girl, or dancing, or makeup and pretty things. It all seems ridiculous on her thick, bumbling build. 

If there’s a spell on how to make yourself daintier or prettier, Millie wants to know. She'd probably spend a fortune on it. 

She doesn’t even know what draws her attention to Ron Weasley in the first place. Maybe the fact that he seems so _real_ and awkward. His face is always turning shades of red whenever he’s made fun of by the girls in Gryffindor; either by Hermione for a mistake on a subject, Ginny for acting like he’s someone special, or Parvati and Lavender for doing silly boy things. Still, he never turns a hair, even if his face might be the colour of an overripe tomato—he laughs at himself as though being the brunt of a joke is something fun.

It isn’t fun. Millie knows this, and she admires how he can play it off as though it doesn’t hurt. 

It _has_ to hurt, playing second fiddle to Harry _the Chosen One_ Potter. Potter’s the one with the money, the fame, the glory. He has girls who throw themselves on him and a way with words that Ron fumbles to imitate. He's got an ease with Quidditch that Millie admires even though she shouldn’t, being in an opposing house with a history of hostile rivalry. 

In everything, Ron is only second best, and that’s something Millie can relate to. 

When she drops her books in the hallway, there is nobody there who notices and bends down to pick them up with her. It’s just Millie. Being her normal, clumsy, cow-like self.

Only a pair of scuffed shoes stop a little ways from her. One large freckled hand reaches over and gathers the books farthest from her, one by one. He stares at her for a moment before handing them over, stacked in a haphazard fashion. “There. They really should give us lighter texts, you know?” he says, and for just a minute, he flashes his unguarded smile before lurching upright and loping off down the hall.

Millie watches him go. He was like that sometimes. Terrible in the spotlight, but in one on one encounters, someone pleasant and likable. Someone with a strong undercurrent of gallantry, even for the underdog like Millie.

Sometimes it’s the quiet, unnoticed ones who grab your heart and don’t let go. The bright ones glow for the world to see, but it’s the ones in the shadows who are the secret everyday heroes.


End file.
